Randall rode at the front, whipping the reins of his horse causing it to speed up with hooves beating steadily against the dirt road.

Behind him, a line of knights followed in silence, their armor glinting faintly under the pale sun. They had been riding for hours, and the town where the dungeon stood finally came into view.

What awaited them on reaching the place was unsettling.

The streets were empty, lined with cracked stone walls and broken carts left to rot. Doors hung ajar, some swaying gently with the wind.

A few shutters creaked as if the place still breathed faintly, though no human soul remained. The air was heavy, carrying a strange stillness that pressed on their chests.

One of the knights spoke in a hushed tone, his voice carrying unease. "This place looks like an abandoned city like Ghostly towns."

Others nodded in agreement.

The name itself carried a chill, and their eyes darted around as if expecting shadows to rise from the empty houses.

A guard urged his horse forward until he was riding beside Randall. His face was tense. "Sir Randall, I think something is very odd."

Randall turned his head, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"It's one thing for Baron Fenwick's men to withdraw," the guard explained, his hand tightening on the reins. "But why would the townspeople leave too? It makes no sense."

Randall's brows furrowed. He shared the same thought. A dungeon was never just an ordinary cave. It wasn't only a hunting ground where monsters were slain.

There was more to it.

Everyone who fought in a dungeon,soldiers, adventurers, even mercenaries experienced a subtle but real rise in strength. Each battle inside tempered their bodies, sharpened their senses, and strengthened their will. That was why soldiers trained in dungeons were stronger than those who only drilled on open fields.

It was also the reason adventurers sought them out, willing to risk their lives for the chance at power and rewards.

Baron Fenwick had long used that to his advantage. He grew wealthy selling passes to adventurers, filling his coffers with gold. But now the town was empty.

The stalls were gone, inns abandoned, and the usual noise of adventurers was missing. It was like a heartbeat had been cut off.

It shouldn't have happened as this place just changed the owner.

Randall's gaze hardened. "It seems just as we thought. The dungeon might truly be empty."

The knight beside him asked, almost reluctantly, "Do we still go down?"

Randall nodded. "Yes. Let's go and take a look."

The group moved forward. The road wound toward the base of a hill, where the dungeon entrance came into sight.

A huge cave-like structure opened before them, its mouth dark and wide. Around it were signs of fortification,walls of stone, watchtowers that now stood abandoned, and remnants of old barricades.

Once, this place had been alive with guards, merchants, and adventurers coming and going. Now only silence remained.

Randall brought his horse to a stop and dismounted. He stepped closer, his boots crunching on gravel. His sharp eyes studied the entrance. "I wish we had a guide," he muttered.

"Alas…" His voice trailed off as he peered inside.

There, beyond the shadow, was a staircase of stone leading deep underground. Surprisingly, it looked sturdy,and the steps almost untouched by time except for the mosses clinging to the edges, but the surface was firm.

"The staircase condition is good," Randall murmured, his voice low. He hated to admit it, but whoever had maintained this dungeon had done well. The structure looked secure, almost inviting, yet that only deepened his suspicion.

He turned sharply to his men. "Carry the forces and supplies. And be on guard. Don't let your guard down. We are in chartered territory now, and dungeons are not forgiving. Do not touch anything unnecessary. A single mistake could trigger a mechanism or a trap."

The knights straightened, their expressions solemn. They understood well that inside the dungeon, even the smallest lapse could bring disaster.

Randall adjusted his sword at his waist, feeling the weight of it steady him. Without another word, he stepped toward the opening. The shadows of the cave swallowed him as he set his foot on the first step of the staircase, his knights following close behind. The air grew cooler, heavier, and the light of the world above faded slowly behind them.

....

So this is ketchup and chili sauce... What a wonderful taste."

Rony muttered with wide eyes, his face glowing with shock and admiration. In all his years as a cook, he had never come across such ingredients that could instantly lift the flavor of food so high. He held the bottles with both hands, staring at them as if they were precious gems

. His awestruck expression made Ethan chuckle softly under his breath.

'I wonder how he would react if he tasted MSG, oregano, or other secret spices,' Ethan thought, his lips curling in a faint smile. 'Now that I think about it, I truly need to go much further to gather all these things.'

"Lord, now let's get started," Rony said eagerly, tying an apron around his waist as though he were preparing for battle. His enthusiasm made Ethan sigh in resignation.

The truth was, Rony did not need to handle every detail of cooking for the work Ethan had planned.

Yet he had insisted, saying that to properly manage and guide others in the kitchen, he must first learn the techniques himself and understand the variety of tastes. Seeing his persistence, Ethan had agreed.

Soon the kitchen filled with warmth, noise, and the aroma of sizzling meat.

Ethan patiently guided Rony step by step, showing him how to prepare hamburgers, fries, and other simple dishes.

The scent of freshly grilled patties filled the air, mixing with the crisp crackle of fries frying in oil. Rony's eyes never left Ethan's hands, watching every motion with burning focus, as if each step were some great secret being revealed.

"Press it lightly, don't crush it," Ethan instructed as Rony tried shaping the patty.

"Ah, I see... Like this? No, wait, I'll redo it," Rony said, fumbling yet refusing to give up. His excitement seemed endless, and even his mistakes were followed by quick laughter and determination to do better.

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